Pieces Of A Puzzle
by Timevamp
Summary: She was just perfect. She was that name his brother refused to say, that face that left him wanting to know. Lady Charlize Martin-Francœr, was his past- Forgotten. (Sherlock/OC) (Johnlock- Friendship)
1. The unsuccessful alias

**well hello there, Sherlockians :D. First Sherlock fic. EXCITED! I've written for Doctor Who, Hunger Games and Love Never Dies so far. This is adding to my list. visit my profile to read my other fics. And pretty please review. All criticism is taken in and I will try to improve. but don't be too harsh, please. I'm actually only twelve.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately not mine :'( But maybe I could get it for my birthday... Please? Or maybe just Benedict Cumberbatch. He'll ****_definitely _****do. **

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221b. He had really lived in London his whole life, I remember from our childhood. He was forced to make friends, and he chose me. He was smart and witty and a genius. He taught me many things.. Things that I use today. To get me a life. Without Sherlock Holmes I would be nothing. And yet at the same time, he broke me. He left me for dust, long ago. I was a naive girl at 14, he was a strong boy entering adulthood at 16. Why did he make such an imprint on me? He was handsome and he knew everything. He played the violin, so did I. Actually he taught me. What a talented man he is..  
No! I shouldn't think like this! I hate him now. He left me when I was most vulnerable. He used me. But I still cling onto the hope that he still remembers me after the memory loss. I doubt it. The name Charlize Martin-Francœr would ring no bells. But I had to make sure, so I came under a fake alias. I was Charlotte Charles. Not too different. And if he does remember, there's a little game for him. Find out my real name. And so I prepared myself to see the man I had not seen since he ripped my heart in two. I was ready to get the other half of my heart back. But when the door swung open, a woman stood there instead. Oh, I thought, not expected.

Sherlock's POV

'Mrs Hudson!' I called 'We brought the chips. Why did you ask for 4? Have we been graced by my brothers unfortunate presence?'  
'Oh no, we have a visitor,' she shuffled out to set them on plates. I shrugged my shoulders and went up stairs to my office, Watson on my heels. I shoved the door open and shouted with fright as I saw the girl looking out the window. 'Ah!' She screamed and fell backwards with a thud 'you stupid man, you scared me!' She grasped her chest. I held out my hand to help her up. 'Dreadfully sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone here. What's your name?' She dusted off her black tight skirt and shoved out her hand.  
'Miss Charlotte Charles.'  
'Sherlock Holmes,' I shook her small hand and turned to Watson 'and this is my assistant Dr. John Watson.' He waved politely. I saw she was staring at me. I turned to tell her not to but stopped. Her eyes glared at me worth admiration and also anger. I was desperate to know what made her feel this way. It was emotions I'd only ever seen on rare occasions. I had the sudden urge to wipe a small mascara stain on her face. As i did it felt vaguely familiar. 'There,' I smiled uneasily 'all better.' She flinched and I realised that I'd said it before. And then Miss Charles looked all to familiar. A flashback to my teens sent me collapsing to my armchair.  
_It was dark and I was running. I kneeled on the ground and grasped someone's hands. Then I kissed this someone. It felt good, as I recall. I saw red spots through the blurs, and suspected it was blood. And I wiped if off, claiming 'there. All better.' But then she was dragged away... And I heard 'Sherlock! SHERLOCK!' I screamed her name in return but then everything went black._  
Was it her? Was hers the name I screamed?  
'Mr Holmes, are you alright?' Charlotte asked. I crossed my legs and smiled.  
'Im fine. Why would you think that I'm not?'  
'Maybe because you visited another planet for a minute,' John suggested  
'Anyway, you work for the government,' I diverted to the young woman  
'Your a detective. But not private or federal.'  
'What?' I asked  
'You have case files on your desk along with anonymous numbers, some police and regular. Your laptop is open crack, a clear sign of constant use. Maybe because you need to fish through cases rather than them being handed to you. Your clothes are comfortable and well fitted, but not formal enough to be attending meetings and interviews or even court cases. Mobile rather than landline, stuck a map on the wall, a jar of eyeballs on the the mantle, not to mention your ridiculous hat.. It's simple when you know how to find it,' she gave half a smile and handed me a suitcase 'I'll be taking the room third floor.'  
'How did you know it was vacant?'  
'Two words,' she breathed, dangerously close to me. I could feel her breath tingle against my cheek but I refused to let it get to me. 'Wedding ring,' she grabbed my hand and shoved it in my face.  
'Oh not another brainbox. I've only just got used to you and Mycroft playing murder,' John sighed and rubbed his forehead.  
'Miss Charles, I suggest you take the fourth floor. Much more room,' I smiled. She hummed and took her bag, striding out. 'So, who was she?' John asked.  
'I don't know but I want to find out.' So I followed her upstairs.


	2. Flashbacks

**chapter 2! Yay! Flashbacks come in this chapter and so on. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Im NOT gonna cry... D':**

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Charlotte (Charlize) POV

I was unpacking, quietly humming a concerto I made up for my violin. I sat upon the bed and unzipped the old case. My instrument shone brightly, as it had been polished recently. I took out the bow and began to play. But it desperately needed resin so I pulled out the pot. As I lifted it, I saw a small white piece of paper poking out of the case lining. I yanked it from its hidey-hole . I unfolded it and it read;  
_Do not be angry, It is my gift to you.. I intend to teach you this violin, So that we may play together someday_  
_Your ever loving_  
_Sherlock Holmes x_  
He even added a kiss. I smiled and folded it up, not noticing the eager detective at the door. 'Secret admirer?' He asked  
'Oh no.. Just an ex. From a long time ago.'  
'Let me see it.' He reached out but I shoved it into the violin case and replied  
'Patience is a virtue, mr Holmes.'  
'Ah, I'm not too sure on that one. You play?'  
'Yes,' I nodded and ran the resin across the bow, creating small dust as I did so. Sherlock held out his hand and smiled sweetly 'come with me.' After a moments hesitation, I let him pull me to my feet and guide me downstairs.  
It was bliss waltzing with him again only this time without the affection of long ago and added prying eyes of the landlady and Watson. I'd play something he'd better it, until we could no more. We simply stopped. It felt empty without music now. Violin had always been a passion. And a way to connect with that lonely boy so long ago. I placed down my instrument and turned around, only to be captured by Sherlock and pulled into a slow dance. The record player hummed in the corner a sweet tune. Beethoven, Moonlight sonata. 'How did you know that I liked this song?' I asked curiously as we spun around the room.  
'You seemed like a Beethoven girl,' he replied. I raised my eyebrow and he sighed. 'Alright, alright. I saw the music sticking out if your case. Simply perception.'  
'Your a Bach and Handel guy. Do some beautiful pieces for violin,' I grinned  
'Ah yes.. You have a large diaphragm which suggests you are a singer.'  
'Clever, mr Holmes. It's Puccini I adore. Madama butterfly. Beautiful opera, so infact it brought me to tears. Going back to lungs and diaphragms, Your breathing patterns tell me your a smoker.'  
'Charlie dear, I live in London. What do you expect?' He replied sarcastically. I stepped away, shocked. He remembered. He shortened my name back to Charlie, just as he did when we were young. I glared right at him and he rolled his eyes. 'Oh please, you really believe that I thought you were called Charlotte? Your way too posh and feminine for that. Also there's a hint of a French accent in there, which means you have family in France. You play the violin, exactly like me and you have my intel. That is right isn't it, Lady Charlize Martin-Francœr?'  
He'd found me out.

Sherlock POV

It was clever in my head. But the poor girl must have thought so. She just stared at me and then ran off, tears in her eyes. I turned to john. 'Bugger.'  
'What did you do?' He seethed  
'Charlotte isn't who she says she is. Well, she's not even Charlotte at all.'  
'Who is she then. A psychopath with a musical passion?' I sat behind my laptop and loaded photos. I looked at my childhood memories, and in particular the photograph of myself with an anonymous girl whom Mycroft refused to remind me who she was. She was beautiful and slender. She had that rich air about her. My parents were particular about my friends. But it seemed that according to the photos of the two of us, we were friends with benefits. When I asked my older brother on the matter, he always seemed amused. He'd whisper to me 'one day, you'll remember that girl and you'll regret how much you hurt her. And maybe she'll forgive you.' I never understood it. Until I saw that radiant glow of her face today. 'Her name is Lady Charlize heir to the line of Martin-Francœr. Her grandmother is a countess in France. And I do believe she is my ex girlfriend,' I squinted at the screen and turned the laptop so John could see it.  
'How can you have an ex girlfriend and not remember?' He asked  
'Mind wipe I think. It's the only way. My brother has always been a natural in it. I believe he had a part in it in it.'  
'Sherlock,' mrs Hudson said 'if this girl was your ex lover then you should go and find her. She probably feels upset that you confronted her so harshly.' I ran off to find her. She was sitting in the cafe, her phone pressed to her ear. She wiped her eyes clean as the receiver said 'hullo.'  
'Mycroft?' She whimpered. Why on earth would she ring my brother?  
'Dear, what happened?'  
'He knows. Somehow he remembers who I am. What do i do?'  
'Im coming over-'  
'No, I can do this, Mycroft. He is a hard man to talk to but I'm sure he'll understand someday-' I lunged forward and grabbed the mobile out of her shaky hands. I sunk into the seat next to her. She stared at me with anger and shock. 'Tell me now, who is she?'  
'Now I'm definitely coming over. You'll have to wait and see, sherlock.'  
'Ugh, fine!' I groaned and cut him off. Charlize stared at me with wonder. I pulled a packet of cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one. 'Ah,' I smiled 'stress relief.' She frowned at me so I thrust the packet at her. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled out a cigarette. 'I hate you,' she snarled as she breathed out a puff of grey smoke  
'Why?' I sucked the tobacco eagerly. She rolled up her sleeves and showed me the nicotine patches up her arm. 'Oh. I thought it was because I confronted you on-'  
'Yeah, that too,' she cut me off. There was brief silence before I said something again.  
'I'm sorry,' I whispered  
'For what?'  
'Remembering.'  
'Im not bothered, Sherlock.'  
'Well you obviously do. If it comforts you, I don't remember everything.'  
'What do you remember?' She put out her cigarette and rested her head in her hand.  
'Your face, the smell of your hair, wiping blood off your face and screaming your name-' Charlie scoffed and Sherlock winced 'that came out wrong.'  
'I know what you mean. But you don't really know me know me,' she sighed.  
'I know that you meant something to me. And that I meant something to you. We used to spend a lot of time together-' I flash backed.  
_'Sher-lock... Wait!' She whined _  
_'Im not pulling you! It's New Year's Eve and I promised!' We must have been only 14. _  
_'I don't remember flights of stairs in your promise!' She snapped. I felt a breeze of cold air as I reached the top. I bent down to help the young woman up too. She tripped and fell into my arms. For a moment I held her there, not wanting to let go. But we broke away and laughed bashfully. 'So,' she began 'what is New Years Eve like from here?' _  
_'The view is beautiful,' I explained taking her hand and pulling her around the roof 'over there is the London eye, and just farther is Big Ben and Parliament. The fireworks glitter the sky with colours... Just like your Bastille day.'_  
_'Oh look,' she gasped 'there is numbers on the clock! Are you sure Mycroft won't want to join us?'_  
_'Nah, he's quite content in his study with it on the tv. That's my big brother for you.' She giggled. ETA 30 seconds. There was something I had to do. 'Charlie... Could we, um..'_  
_'Yes,' she smiled _  
_'Uh..' I rubbed my neck bash fully. I heard the countdown to new year begin and I sucked in a deep breath. '10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1...' But instead of saying happy new year, I pressed my lips to hers. She welcomed it warmly and wrapped her arms around my neck. I guess that we had the same idea._

'Flashback, dear?' She asked. I nodded meekly and put out my cigarette.  
'He gets those?' It was mycroft.  
'Hello brother,' I responded 'only recently.'  
'Ah. I suppose you want to know who this young lady is.'  
'You suppose correctly. Your someone from my childhood-'

_Knock knock!  
'Sherlock!' His brother called 'answer the door, pest.'  
'Why don't you?' He shot back but reluctantly shuffled towards the front door. He swung it open grumpily. 'What is it- oh!' It was a pretty young girl. She had brown hair in a plait and crystal blue eyes. The little white boat hat on her head matched her dress and shiny shoes. 'Er.. Bonjour. May we uh,' she gazed at her hand and struggled to read what was on it 'borrow a, uh, candle. Our electric has not come on yet.'  
'Of course!' He grinned 'are you our new neighbours?'  
'Erm, oui! I mean yes. We moved from St Tropez.'  
'French. Interesting... What is your name?'  
'Vicomtess Charlize Anne Martin-Francœr,' she shoved her hand out. He blushed wildly and shook it, replying 'I'm William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Come in!' She giggled and skipped in after him.  
'Pest, who have you invited in now?' Mycroft came out of the lounge with a pile of study books.  
'This is our neighbour, Charlize Anne Martin-Francœr.'  
'Your family of French moved in number 4. I'm Mycroft, Sherlocks brother. Don't bother me when I study and I'll like you.' He stalked up the stairs and left the two 10 year olds in the hall. Sherlock rubbed his neck and pointed towards the end of the hall 'Kitchen is this way.'  
'I thought your name was William?' She tapped his shoulder.  
'It is. Everyone called me Sherlock though. I prefer it. Mum!'  
'Yes, Sherlock?' Mrs. Holmes smiled, taking of her washing up gloves.  
'Candles?'  
'Beneath the sink, where they've always been!' She swatted him with her tea towel, playfully. She jumped as she saw Charlize standing there. 'Oh and what are you doing here?'  
'Im Charlize Martin-Francœr. The electrics haven't been switched on in my house and my little sister is scared of the dark.'  
'Its a pleasure. My son doesn't have many friends. So could you please be nice to him?' Mrs Holmes whispered. Charlize giggled and nodded. 'Charlize is a mouthful isn't it? How about Lize or Charlie?'  
'I like the name Charlie!' She beamed. Sherlock handed her he candles bashfully. She bundled them into her arms and cried 'sacre bleu! Maman must be worried about me! I hope I'll see you again, Sherlock.' And she ran out and onto her white bike, quickly peddling home. Mrs Holmes turned to her small son.  
'Thats the type of girl everybody wants to know.'_

'That's our first meeting.. Right,' Sherlock rubbed his temples 'I don't like not knowing!'  
'In time, my dear. One day you will remember everything about us. And I hope that day will come soon,' Charlie got up and walked across the landing proclaiming 'good night.'  
'Damn that girl.'


End file.
